George," he added, turning to one of his men, "go to the hotel, and get the baggage belonging to these gentlemen. We will see if that will throw any further light upon their true character."
The officer departed, and during his absence, General Winder plied them with questions about their mission; their knowledge of Timothy Webster; their visit to Richmond, and in fact about everything imaginable, and all of them showing conclusively that he believed them to be spies, and unworthy of credence. Their satchels were finally brought in, and a rigid examination failed to discover anything to justify his suspicions, and Winder finally left the room, angrily ordering them to remain where they were, and directing his officers and Chase Morton to accompany him.
A few minutes elapsed after their departure, during which the loud voice of Winder could be heard, angrily declaiming against the two men; he then came back again, and addressing my operatives said:
"Gentlemen, your stories don"t agree with what I know about you, and we will give you time to think the matter over;" then turning to his deputy he commanded, "Take them away!"
"Where to?" inquired the officer.
"To Henrico Jail," was Winder"s response.
They were then conducted to the jail and placed in a room in which six others were confined, where the officers left them to their meditations, which, as may be imagined, were far from pleasant. Not knowing what might be in store for them, and fearing that their presence in Richmond might result in danger to Webster, they resolved to say nothing whatever, and to adhere strictly to the story originally told by them, and then to abide by the consequences, no matter how serious they might be.
During the afternoon of the following day, an officer accompanied by an elder son of Mr. Morton made their appearance at the jail, and he, too, identified the two men, as being concerned in searching his mother"s residence in Washington, and endeavored to recall several incidents which had taken place on that occasion. To all of his statements, however, Price and Scully made emphatic denials, and vehemently a.s.serted their entire ignorance of anything connected with the Mortons, or their relations to the Federal government.
Finding it impossible to obtain any admission from the two prisoners, they took their departure, and left the confined detectives to their own unpleasant reflections.
For three days they remained in their place of confinement, and during that time no word came from the Marshals office or from any one concerning their disposition or future movements. It seemed as though the authorities had been content with simply placing them in durance vile, and then had dismissed them from their minds. This was the most favorable view they were able to take of the case, and they were solacing themselves with the fallacious hope of having escaped a fate which they dreaded, and also with the belief that Webster, their friend and companion, would not be a.s.sociated with their presence in Richmond, and that their discovery would not operate to his injury.
On the fourth day, however, an attache of the Marshal"s office came to the jail, and calling for John Scully informed him that his presence was required by General Winder. Scully prepared himself for the visit, and taking leave of his companion followed the officer. He did not return that night, and for days afterwards Lewis was in ignorance of what had become of him, or what fate he was to expect at the hands of these minions of disloyalty and secession.
Lewis, meanwhile, had become acquainted with his fellow prisoners, all of whom were in a state of anxiety as to what measure of punishment would be meted out to them, and all nearly crazed with the uncertainty of their impending fate. For days they had been concocting a plan of escape, and finding Lewis disposed to make an effort to be released from his confinement, they developed their plans to him, and requested his aid in the accomplishment of their purpose.
Lewis hailed with delight a proposition that promised to enable them to exchange the damp and noisome air of a prison for the free breath of nature, and the dark hours of captivity for the freedom and liberty he longed for, and he became an energetic and careful coadjutor of those who suffered with him the degrading position of being imprisoned by a government which they despised, and by which their lives were menaced.
The part of the jail in which they were confined was separated from the main building, and contained four cells, two upon the ground floor and two immediately above them. These cells were reached through a corridor from the yard outside, and secured by two doors; one a heavy iron one fastened on the inside, and the other a stout wooden barricade, the lock of which was placed on the outside of the building. It was the custom of the old man, who acted as the jailer, to allow the prisoners a half hour"s walk in the yard during the early evening, and then, locking them up safely again, he would leave them alone in the building, while he went to his home, several blocks distant.
One of the men had managed to secrete a file about his person, and with this they succeeded in making a saw out of a knife. These were the only implements which they had to work with. Notwithstanding the meagerness of their implements, but a few days had elapsed before the bolts on every cell-door were sawed through so that they only required a few minutes" labor to detach them from their fastenings altogether.
It is impossible to detail the hours of feverish anxiety, of tireless energy, and of momentary fear of detection, through which these men pa.s.sed while engaged in their difficult and dangerous work--or to depict their joy, when at last their labor was completed, and they awaited the time of carrying their plans into execution.
The outside door was now the only barrier between them and their coveted freedom, and various plans were suggested to overcome this obstacle. At length one was decided upon which promised to secure the object of their desires. In one corner of the yard in which they took their daily exercise, there was a large pile of ashes and garbage, which had been acc.u.mulating for a long time. It was resolved that one of their number should be buried under this rubbish, while several of the other prisoners engaged the old jailer in animated conversation.
The man selected for this purpose was a good, brave fellow, who was formerly a sailor, and had lately been a member of an artillery company from New York. His name was Charles Stanton, and he had come into the South upon his own inclination, and for the Quixotic purpose of obtaining command of a gunboat of the Confederacy, and then attempting to run it through to the Union lines. He had, however, been suspected, and remanded to prison, where he had remained without a trial, and without hope of release, for several months.
The prisoners were all turned out for their usual exercise in the yard, on the evening which had been agreed upon; and in accordance with their arranged plan, several of the prisoners surrounded the old turnkey, and engaged him in an earnest discussion, while others set actively to work to dig the grave of Stanton in the ashes. In order that he might not be unbearably uncomfortable, his body only was covered with the contents of the ash-heap, while his head and shoulders were concealed from view by some straw, which one of the men brought from his cell for that purpose.
In the jail, at this time, there were a number of negroes, who had been captured while attempting to make their way to the North, and although these faithful blacks were aware of the attempted escape, and knew full well that they were not included in the movement, their efforts were none the less active in behalf of the white men who were struggling for liberty.
They had been informed of the attempted escape, from the first, and had kept the matter a profound secret, at the same time rendering such service as they were capable of to the whites.
Everything worked to their entire satisfaction. The turnkey was unsuspicious; the grave was made without discovery, and Stanton was carefully concealed. In a few minutes afterwards the call for retiring was heard, and the men, with throbbing hearts, rushed in a ma.s.s toward the door of the corridor. This was done in order to escape the counting of their number, in case the old man should attempt to do so. They pa.s.sed quickly into their cells, and were not required to be counted.
Thus far, all had been done as successfully as could be hoped for, or expected; no suspicions were excited, nor was their missing comrade called for. It had been the custom of the old man to make a tour of the cells after the prisoners had retired, to see if they were all there before he went away for the night. In order to overcome this possibility of detection, a figure had been made of straw, stuffed into the garments of the men, and laid upon the bed, in order to look as much like a human being as possible.
This precaution proved to be a good one, for just before the time of closing up the prison arrived, the glimmer of the old turnkey"s lantern was seen in the corridor, and shortly after, his face appeared at the door, as he eagerly scanned the occupants of the various cells.
Apparently satisfied with his scrutiny, the jailer went his way, the heavy outside doors were closed and locked, and the retreating footsteps of the old man could be distinctly heard.
The critical moment had at last arrived, and they awaited in breathless silence the appearance of Stanton. Fortune favored them in a peculiar manner this evening. As the old man was pa.s.sing the pile of ashes under which Stanton was concealed, he noticed the unusual appearance of the straw. Stopping for a moment, he drew a match from his pocket, lighted it, and then walked toward the heap as though with the intention of setting fire to it. The match fortunately was extinguished by a blast of wind, and after searching in his pocket for another match, but finding none, he slowly turned, and walked out of the gate, locking it securely behind him.
Stanton"s feelings, under this ordeal, may be imagined. If the old man had succeeded in igniting the straw, under which he was concealed, detection would have followed instantly, and no doubt serious injury would have been inflicted upon the brave fellow, who had willingly suffered the discomforts of his unpleasant confinement for the purpose of a.s.sisting his comrades to escape.
No sooner had the gate closed upon the jailor, than he crawled nimbly out from his place of concealment, and hastily made his way to the door.
He at once began his operations upon the lock. The appearance of Stanton at the door was the signal for the others, and in less than an hour the locks upon the cell doors had been removed. Stanton had wrested the lock from the outside door, and only the iron inside one was now to be overcome. This barrier resisted all their efforts, and it was at last decided that the lock must be removed by main force. This was a proceeding which necessitated a great deal of noise, and they were in an agony of apprehension lest their clamor should attract the attention of people pa.s.sing on the outside, and thus lead to their detection. To prevent this, the colored men, without any solicitation or instruction, came to the rescue in a very important, though unexpected manner. They commenced to sing in concert, at the top of their voices, s.n.a.t.c.hes of plantation and camp-meeting melodies, which effectually drowned the sound of their blows, and enabled them to work without fear of detection.
The lock at last yielded to their combined efforts, and the men issued silently forth into the darkness of the night, breathing once more the stimulating atmosphere of hope and promised liberty. Only the wall around the prison yard was now to be surmounted, and with the aid of some old planks that were lying around, they succeeded in reaching the top, after which they noiselessly dropped themselves to the ground.
Although this wall was very high, they all reached _terra firma_ in safety, and with one impulse breathed a prayer of thankfulness for the success which had thus far attended their efforts.
Silently, and walking in couples, at long distances apart, they started out to leave the city. The sky was clear, and the moon was shining brightly overhead. The stars were twinkling merrily, as though enjoying the success which had attended these brave, patient men, in their labor and toil of days and weeks.
This was on the eighteenth day of March, and Martial law had been proclaimed some time previously. It was now nearly eight o"clock, and by the provisions of the law any one found upon the streets after nine o"clock, must be in possession of a pa.s.s, or be liable to arrest. Great haste was therefore necessary, in order to leave the city before that hour. With only the stars for their guide, they set out in a northerly direction. Not one of the men was acquainted with the country, and their journey was all the more perilous on that account.
By midnight they had reached the Chickahominy, having succeeded, by the greatest good fortune, in escaping any one who was disposed to make inquiries or to molest them in any manner whatever. Across this swamp their way led through quagmires and deep pools, and was dangerous in the extreme. Sometimes waist deep in the soft mud and water, and scrambling over slipping places which furnished insecure footholds, and threatened instant danger from falling back into the pools through which they had made their way. Their journey was full of hardship and suffering. The air was cold and frosty, and their wet garments clung to them like ice; their limbs trembled; their teeth chattered with the cold, and their condition was really a pitiable one indeed.
At length they reached the woods upon the opposite side. Here they were obliged to stop and rest, completely exhausted. Some of the hardier of the party removed their dripping garments, and attempted to wring the water from them; while others, unable to stand the chilling air any longer, built a fire, around which they gathered in the effort to warm their bodies and to dry their water-soaked clothing.
They rested for about two hours, and then pushed on again until daylight, when they sought the shelter of the woods and laid down, hoping to get some sleep after their laborious and fatiguing journey of the preceding night. Sleep, however, was impossible; their clothing was wet, and the air was cold. Their sufferings became intense, and at length, finding it impossible to endure the freezing atmosphere longer, they determined to build a fire, regardless of the consequences.
Proceeding further into the wood, they gathered some boughs, and soon the cheerful blaze afforded them sufficient heat to dry their frozen clothing and to warm their benumbed and freezing bodies. Thus pa.s.sed the day, and when darkness came on again they resumed their journey.
Already they began to experience the pangs of hunger. They had eaten nothing since the evening before, and had walked many weary miles. They were foot-sore and tired and hungry. They had provided themselves with the remnants of the corn cake which had been served for their supper on the previous evening, but these had become thoroughly soaked with water on their journey through the swamps, and had crumbled to pieces.
Notwithstanding their pitiable condition, their strong wills and brave hearts sustained them, and they plodded on.
The night was intensely dark; the stars were obscured, and a pall of inky blackness hung over them, which rendered their journey exceedingly hazardous, as they could not see the way before them, and were unable to tell in which direction they were traveling.
They had not proceeded far when the storm broke, and a drenching torrent of rain descended. The wind whistled and howled through the trees, and for hours the tempest raged with relentless fury. Seeking the shelter of the woods again, they crouched close to the trunks of the trees, and vainly attempted to screen themselves from the deluge. It was of no avail, however; the leafless timber afforded them no protection, and during the continuance of the storm the poor, tired and almost exhausted fugitives were exposed to the pitiless blast.
Shivering with cold, their teeth chattering, their garments drenched through to their quivering skin, they knelt or crouched upon the ground, and when daylight dawned, and the storm at last cleared away, they were almost too weak to help themselves.
Price Lewis looked around him as the faint streaks of sunrise illumined the horizon, and to his dismay saw that nearly all of his late companions had disappeared, and that only three others beside himself remained.
With the greatest difficulty they succeeded in building a fire, and were just preparing to enjoy its comforting warmth, when they were alarmed by the sound of the hasty tramping of feet, and in a moment they were surrounded by a number of Confederate soldiers, who commanded them to surrender at once.
This sudden and unexpected appearance was a crushing blow to their hopes. They submitted without a word; and although bowed to the ground with disappointment, they experienced a sensation almost amounting to relief, at the prospect of receiving the care and attention which even enemies would give to those in such distress as were these poor fugitives.
Limping along, they were marched to an out-building, connected with a farm-house near by, when, to their surprise, they saw the remainder of their party, who had been captured by another band of soldiers, huddled together in one corner of the room.
The soldiers were touched with pity, as they beheld the forlorn condition of the men whom they had secured, and in a short time they had provided them with a repast, which the famished fugitives devoured with a rapidity which gave ample testimony of their long and painful abstinence.
After dispatching this meal they were conveyed directly back to Richmond, and returned to their old quarters in Henrico jail. On their arrival each man was placed in a separate cell, and doubly ironed, to prevent a repet.i.tion of their efforts to escape.
[Ill.u.s.tration: _The prisoners re-captured._]
While Price Lewis had been engaged in this unsuccessful attempt to gain his liberty, John Scully had been undergoing a far different experience.
A court-martial had been hurriedly convened, where he was fully identified by every member of the Morton family as the man who had searched their premises in the city of Washington, and had, after a very summary trial, been convicted and remanded back to prison to await his sentence.
On the second day after the return of Price Lewis he was conducted before a court-martial, and in a remarkably short s.p.a.ce of time was accorded a trial, if trial it could be called, and his conviction followed as quickly as did that of John Scully.
They had been charged with being alien enemies, and at one time acting in the service of the Federal government in Washington. In addition to this, they were charged with loitering around the fortifications at Richmond and taking plans of the same. Notwithstanding the fact that no witness could be procured who would swear to having seen them in such localities, or engaged in any such occupation, the members of the court-martial, with singular unanimity, found them guilty of the second charge, with as much haste, and as manifest an air of solemnity, as they did of the first.
The next day they were each informed of their sentence, which was that they should be hung by the neck, as spies, and that their execution should take place in one week from the day of the communication of the information to them.